


I'll See You in My Dreams

by QueensJenn



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Angst, Brotherly feels, Gen, Norges Herligste, Not all is as it seems, inspired by a dream, minor gore, some puking, tegneseriemannen, there are helicopters in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueensJenn/pseuds/QueensJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving Brandbu, the Norges Herligste team runs into trouble in a snowstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a dream I had after watching "Tegneseriemannen" and falling asleep right after. I have very cinematic dreams. 
> 
> (The part of the dream where there was a giant cable out in the Atlantic that supplied Norway with all it's electricity, and it got severed by the crazed Tegneseriemann thankfully got cut out.)

_If there’s anything more embarassing than having your older brother have to run off and_ _puke during an interview_ , Bård thought, _it’s having him get kicked out and then puke on the ground outside the venue._

 

Vegard coughed, then stood up, wiping his mouth. 

 

“Feeling good?” Bård asked hopefully.

 

“No!” Vegard answered. He was slightly less pale than before but experience showed that that wouldn’t last.

 

“Boys, we should get on our way,” Rune, the sound guy, said from behind them. He was   an old hand at the industry and had been called in to cover when Knut, their usual loyal sound tech, had had to rush home for a family emergency. The brothers had been a little unsure at first, but Rune had proved to be more than capable. The few days had turned into a few months, and now he was almost as close to them as Knut was. 

 

“Ready?” Bård asked his brother. Vegard took a few deep breaths, and a sip from the water bottle that Mikkel, the camera man, handed him. Then he nodded

 

“I think so. Better have a few plastic bags on hand, though.”

 

“Oh, so just like our car trips when we were kids,” Bård joked.

 

“Shut up, that was you.” He climbed into the passenger seat. Bård pouted, having wanted to sit there instead of the back seat where Vegard had spend most of the trip up, but thought better of saying anything.

 

“We need to get on the road,” Mikkel said worriedly, looking up at the sky. “The news says there’s a bad storm coming, and ideally I’d like to be in the next town by that time, so we can get a hotel or something if it gets too bad.”

 

But the first flakes of snow were falling even by the time they pulled out; by the time they were on the road, it was coming down with a vengeance. Bård looked out the window, and was glad that Rune was driving, because right now he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a steering wheel. They were on an isolated back road, of course; the best place to be in a blizzard, and he cursed the shooting schedule that made it necessary to take this road instead of the brightly lit, probably-already-snowplowed highway.

 

“Maybe we should pull over,” Mikkel said uncertainly from his place in the back seat beside Bård.

 

Bård nodded, and hoped for back-up from Vegard, but his older brother had fallen asleep shortly after leaving and was therefore no help. 

 

“If we can just get a little farther...” Rune said. “We’re still pretty far out from town, but I’d rather get to higher ground if we’re going to stop.”

 

He gestured to the big hill looming before them. Bård gulped, a strange, tense feeling forming in his stomach. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to be calm. _Rune knows what he’s doing_ , he reminded himself. _He’s from the north, he’s used to this._

 

But just as they started to climb the hill, the worst happened. The van ground to a shuddering halt, then let out a shriek and began to slide backward.

 

“Hold on!” Rune shouted. Bård had just enough time to grab the headrest in front of him, and then the world fell away. He knew they were falling, and he tried to scream, but his voice caught in his throat. Then they fell sideways, and his head hit the window, and he knew no more.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's where things start to take off.

Bård woke up and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

 

The world was tilting the wrong way up, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Carefully, he cracked open his eyes to try to figure out what was going on. 

 

Miraculously the van was still upright; just out the window he could see the steep cliff face they’d slid off of. Fucking hell, it was a miracle they weren’t all dead. 

 

He groaned and closed his eyes again. He didn’t know how long he’d been out; probably only a few minutes, but it was already getting cold in the van. So much nicer just to pass out again and wait to be rescued. Because of course they would be rescued; for sure. As soon as someone realized they weren’t where they should be. Or even when they called for help! Now there was a thought. His cellphone was in his pants pocket, all he had to do was reach down there and

 

\-- oh _fuckshitshitshitfuuuuuuuuck!_

 

Broken arm. Bård knew that feeling all too well. Fuck. 

 

Well, that ruled that out, and to his horror he could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. No, he wouldn’t cry. That’s stupid, that’s for babies. He wouldn’t cry. The pain in his arm was spreading like wildfire, into his chest and collarbones, and all he wanted was to pass out again and wake up when everything was good.

 

“Bård?” Rune’s voice cut through his hazy ruminations.

 

“Go ‘way,” he mumbled.

 

“Are you awake?”

 

“No.”

 

“If you’re not too injured, I need you to get up and help me with your brother. Do you think you can do that?”

 

Bård’s eyes snapped open again. “Vegard?” he asked anxiously.

 

“He’s alive, but I need you to get up. Mikkel and Jens have gone for help. Phones aren’t working, and they’re trying to flag down a car. But right now, your brother needs you.”

 

The seatbelt was still on. He went to unbuckle it, cried out when he tried to move his broken arm, then reached across awkwardly with his good arm and hit the button. He slumped immediately against the window, just barely managing not to jar his arm again.

 

“Vegard?” he asked again.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Well, he was awake, that had to be a good sign. Bård gingerly leaned forward to get a better look at him.

 

“Fuck, you’re bleeding!”

 

“I am?” Vegard was groggy and sounded confused. He raised his hand and swiped at his forehead. “Fuck.”

 

“You must have hit your head. Is anything else broken?”

 

“My leg...it hurts...”

 

Bård gingerly peeled back the debris that’s covering Vegard’s lap, afraid of what he would find. Vegard’s jeans were soaked with blood from a large gash on his thigh.

 

“Fuck,” Bård swore. He looked away from the wound as a rush of nausea surged up inside him, and he began to feel dizzy. Now was _not_ the time to pass out, Vegard needed him. 

 

Vegard, however, felt no such restraint. He jerked open the car door, and would have fell if it weren’t for the seatbelt, and retched. Fuck, how could they have forgotten he’s still sick? The situation was just getting worse and worse. 

 

“Rune!” he called uncertainly, and then again when there was no response. “Rune! Rune?”

 

The soundman popped into view. “Is he awake?”

 

“Yeah, but look at his leg.”

 

“Oh, that’s bad. We need to get a bandage on that right away.”

 

Fortunately, there was a first aid kit in the van. Vegard had insisted up on it when they first set out. Bård had laughed at him, because why would they need a first aid kit? Wouldn’t a box of band-aids be more appropriate, and take up less room?

 

Keeping his right arm close to his chest, he dug through the jumbled contents of the van’s interior to find the small white box. 

 

“I’ve got it. There are bandages in here,” he said. “I don’t know if I can tie it...”

  
Vegard, who had been starting to drift away again, opened one eye. “What do you mean? Why not?”

 

“I...I think my arm is broken,” Bård admitted. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, because he knew Vegard would worry, but he had to tell them now.

 

“That’s all right,” Rune said, beckoning him closer. “You get out of the car, and come around the front. That’s it.”

 

Bård couldn’t help a yell of shock when he got out of the van. The snow was a blizzard around them and the temperature had dropped several more degrees. The wind stole his breath and he fought hard to come around the other side of the van.

 

Rune backed away as Bård approached, allowing him to crawl awkwardly halfway into the front seat. Vegard grunted as his leg was jostled, but Bård ignored him and handed him one end of the bandage.

 

“Hold onto this,” he said. “And try to lift your leg up. It’s gonna hurt.”

 

Vegard did as he was told, silent, but face pale and breathing heavily. Bård wrapped the bandage tightly around his thigh. It was slow going with only one hand, but finally the roll was used up, and the blood wasn’t soaking through. He handed the other end of the roll to Vegard, who tied it as tightly as he could stand it.

 

Bård slumped against Vegard’s good leg. “Mikkel and Jens went for help.”

 

“Phones?”

 

“Rune says they aren’t working. We’re too far out in the country, or it’s the storm, or something. I don’t know.”

 

 

“Fuck, Bård, this is bad.”

 

“I know. But Rune is here, he’ll know what to do. And you know stuff too. Aren’t you always going on about what you learned in the military? You know, up in northern Norway? Where it’s really cold like this all the time?”

 

But Vegard wasn’t listening. He’d closed his eyes tightly and was breathing hard. “Bård, move,” he gritted out, and suddenly Bård knew what was about to happen. He scrambled backward just as Vegard retched, but couldn’t quite get out of the way in time. 

 

“Fuck! Oh, God, oh, fuck,” Vegard breathed, when he saw what he had done. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I told you to move!”

 

“Forget it,” Bård said, looking at his soiled sleeve. “It’ll wash out.”

 

“Boys? Are you finished?” Rune’s voice cut through the howling storm. “Vegard, can you walk? You should get into the back seat and keep that leg elevated. Bård, there are blankets in the back, right?”

 

Vegard groaned. “I don’t want to.”

 

“You have to. Come on, I’ll help you,” Bård said. “Just don’t puke on me again. I won’t be so nice the second time.” 

 

Vegard’s laugh turned into a groan as he tried to put weight on his bad leg. Bård grabbed his arm and tried to support him as much as he could without moving his own arm, and together the two of them managed to climb into the back seat. Vegard lay down on the bench seat, breathing hard and sweating despite the cold. 

 

“Here,” Bård said, placing a plastic bag in his hand. “Puke in this.” He backed out slowly again, gasping in shock at the cold. It would be easier to climb into the trunk through the back seat, but his arm wouldn’t let him do that. 

 

The contents of the trunk were a mess. The camera equipment was all jumbled to one side, and Bård could only hope it wasn’t damaged, or it would come out of all their paychecks. The bags, too, were messy, but he found what he was looking for - the emergency blankets Vegard had insisted on putting in there.

 

 _It’s almost like he knew,_ Bård thought as he carried the blankets around the side again. He nodded in acknowledgement to Rune, who was getting in the still-open front seat. 

 

“Here,” he said, as he got into the backseat with Vegard and slammed the door shut. “This should help.”

 

“Thanks,” Vegard said. He pulled one over him, then closed his eyes. Despite the cold, his face was flushed.

 

“How long do you think it will take the guys to get help?” Bård asked, shivering despite his own blanket. 

 

“I don’t know,” Rune said honestly. “We should be prepared to be here for awhile. See if the engine will start so we can turn the heater on for a few minutes. But we’ll have to conserve petrol.”

 

Bård nodded, and reached out as far as he could to turn the key still in the ignition. The engine sputtered, then came to life, and blessed warm air came out of the vents. He moaned in relief. 

 

All too soon, Rune told him to turn it off. Bård knew the soundman was right, but it was painful to turn the key. The only good thing was that the blankets and the close proximity of their own bodies was keeping the heat trapped, and it didn’t feel so cold.

 

Night was falling. Mikkel and Jens were getting help.

 

All they had to do was survive till morning. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Howling wind and snow, whipping around their little van, the only safe space in an ocean of darkness, a night sky with stars made of snowflakes. Wind howling like ghosts, like burning, burning in his arm and spreading to his chest, and cold like fire --_

 

“Bård!” Rune’s voice cut through his consciousness. “Don’t fall asleep.”

 

“‘M tired,” he murmured, turning his head away from the sound.  Sleep was nice. Sleep meant he was far away, not kneeling in the footwell of a wrecked van. He pressed his cheek against Vegard’s side, selfishly trying to absorb some heat.

 

“I know you are, but you need to stay conscious, or you will freeze.”

 

 _How come Vegard gets to sleep?_ he wanted to ask, childishly. He knew the answer. Vegard got to sleep because he was sick. Really sick. His skin was warm despite their surroundings, and Bård knew that if it weren’t so cold, the fever would be even higher. He hadn’t stopped throwing up, although now it was more like a weak cough every half an hour or so. 

 

“Can we turn the heater on?” he asked hopefully. It had only been forty-five minutes since they last turned it on and he knew what the answer would be.

 

“Can you wait a little longer?” Rune asked. 

 

For a minute he wanted to say no, he needed it on right now, but Rune was right, they needed to conserve power as long as they could, because once it was gone, they would have nothing left. He nodded and laid his head back down, closing his eyes.

 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Rune warned again.

 

“I’m not,” he answered. “I just need...” His head was spinning and he needed to not look at the snow swirling past the window. He wanted to look at the time on his watch, but moving his head made the dizziness worse. Besides, it couldn’t be much later than the last time he’d looked at it.

 

“Where d’you think Mikkel and Jens are?” he asks, trying to make conversation to keep himself awake.

 

“Hopefully in town by now,” Rune answered. He looked out the window and up at the sky. “But it’s unlikely there’ll be any emergency services that’ll come out in this weather.”

 

“Hm.” Bård tried to pull the blanket tighter around himself, but he was shivering so hard and his fingers felt stiff. His broken arm he held tightly across his chest, trying to make a crude sling with a fold of the blanket, but it was completely numb and his fingers and wrist were swollen.

 

Vegard opened his eyes. “Bård?” he asked, his voice rough.

 

“I’m here,” Bård answered, keeping his own eyes tightly shut. “You gotta?”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“Okay...hold on.” Bård risked opening his eyes to find the small plastic bin that had once served as a rubbish bin and was now a puke-bucket. He put it in Vegard’s hand, then laid his head back down against the side of Vegard’s chest. 

 

Vegard coughed, then spat weakly into the bucket. He had nothing left to bring up, and he was too cold and tired to do anything more than that.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered, just as he had that last dozen times.

 

“It’s okay. Here, water,” Bård answered, just as he had the last dozen times. He reached out and retrieved the bottle of water from where he’d placed it between Vegard’s knees under the blanket, both to keep it from freezing and to try to warm it just a little. Vegard took a reluctant sip, then handed it back.

 

“What time is it?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Bård answered. He closed his eyes again. “Late, I think. Or early.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“You’re pale.”

 

“I’m freezing. We can’t turn the heater on just yet. Go back to sleep.” He didn’t want to talk anymore. He just wanted to rest. To be warm, and safe, to have this hellish night over with. 

 

 _Mikkel and Jens are getting help_ , he reminded himself. _Help is coming. Help is coming._ _It’s so cold. Help is coming. I really don’t feel good - SHIT!_

 

Bård sat up quickly and with instincts honed by years of childhood carsickness grabbed the bucket and heaved. He hadn’t eaten in hours and hours so it quickly turned into dry heaving and then, to his embarrassment, broken sobs. This could not be happening. It just couldn’t. The one thing that could make this night worse, and it had just happened, and it was going to happen again and again.

 

Dimly he became aware of Vegard wrapping the blanket around him and rubbing his back and making soothing noises into his hair. The heater was finally on and oddly enough the act of retching had actually warmed him up a little.

 

“It’s okay,” Vegard said, letting him go. “It was bound to happen.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, causing a fresh round of tears to fall. He wiped furiously at his eyes.

 

“It’s not your fault. Here, have some water, and don’t cry. Your tears will freeze. ”

 

Bård took the bottle and took a slow, careful sip. Despite being warmed by their bodies, the water was still sharp and cold and he felt it slide down his throat to sit uncomfortably in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t stay there for long. 

 

Vegard sank back against the seat, looking a little ill himself. The act of comforting Bård had apparently tired him out. He closed his eyes and fisted his hands in the blanket, a wrinkle of pain appearing on his forehead.

 

Bård would have given anything to join him in slumber, but he shook himself out of his trance. No matter how bad he was feeling, he couldn’t fall asleep. Vegard needed him to be strong.

 

“How’s your leg?” he asked.

 

“Hurts,” Vegard admitted.

 

“Can I look?” If he has to pull the blanket back, better to do it while the heater is on.

 

“Yeah,” Vegard said, pressing his face into the back of the seat to hide his hiss of pain. 

 

The gash wasn’t bleeding as heavily as it had been, but there was still a red stain on the bandages. Bård swore, then closed his eyes and held on tight as a wave of dizziness and nausea broke over him. When it finally passed, he twisted around.

 

“Rune, do we have any more bandages?”

 

“I think so, Bård. Here’s the case.” The small metal box of the first aid kit appeared on the center console. Bård took it and looked inside hopefully. For the first time that night, they were in luck. He pulled out a new wad of gauze, then used the scissors to cut away the old bandages. Vegard whimpered in pain again as Bård jostled his leg putting the new bandage around it, but stayed still and didn’t try to jerk away. Which was good, Bård thought wryly. He’d had enough trouble getting the bandage tied in the first place with only having the use of one, frost-numb hand. 

 

 _Help is coming,_ he reminded himself as Rune turned off the heater again. He sank back into the footwell, huddling over, trying to make himself as small as possible. Pain flared up his arm as he pulled the blanket too tight, and he fought to keep from crying out. It would wake Vegard, it would make him worry. Can’t do that. Can’t upset him. Help is coming.

 

 _Help is coming,_ he reminded himself as he retched again and brought up the tiny swallow of water. _Help is coming._ All they had to do was hang on a little longer. _Help is coming_. In the morning everything would be okay.

 

He lost track of the hours. All he knew was the cycle: puke, drink, and wait. Sometimes the heater was on, sometimes it wasn’t, and all reality seemed to be swirling around him as furiously as the snow outside, until finally -

 

“Look,” Rune said. “The sky is getting lighter.”

 

Bård looked up, and sure enough, there was a faint pink glow over the horizon. “Morning,” he croaked, and shook Vegard out of his sluggish stupor. “Look, Vegard. It’s morning! We made it!”

 

Vegard pushed himself up. “The snow has stopped,” he said.

 

Bård could barely contain himself. “We’re going to get rescued, now, right?” he asked. “Just a little bit longer?”

 

“I hope so,” Rune agreed. “I hope so.”

 

“We will,” Bård said emphatically. “It’s morning and the snow’s stopped.” 

 

But the sun broke over the horizon and rose in the sky and still no help came.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Split this chapter up :)

Bård shook himself awake. He’d nearly fallen asleep. Can’t do that. Gotta keep going. Can’t stop. You’ll freeze. Rune had already woken him four times in the last hour, he couldn’t do it again.

 

He pulled himself up against the seat and put his hand on Vegard’s forehead. He’d been hot earlier, the fever still burning within him, but over the last hour he’d seemed to be cooling off. Bård wasn’t sure if he actually was or if he just couldn’t feel it anymore, and he didn’t know what scared him more. 

 

Vegard stirred and opened his eyes as the touch.

 

“Your hands are cold,” he slurred.

 

“Don’t remind me,” Bård muttered. 

 

“Feels good.”

 

_At least you’re enjoying it_ , he wanted to say, but it would take too much energy, so he just sank back into the footwell. He kept his hand against Vegard’s chest for as long as he could stand it, then slipped it back into his glove. Not that that really made much difference; he didn’t feel any warmer.

 

“You need to walk.” Rune’s voice was low, but oddly soothing. Bård could almost pretend he hadn’t heard correctly. 

 

“I know you can hear me,” Rune said when Bård closed his eyes and ducked his head further. “You need to get up and walk around. It’ll warm you up.”

 

“No,” Bård mumbled. How could he walk? He couldn’t even feel his legs. Maybe he didn’t even have legs anymore. Maybe they’d snapped off from the cold hours ago.

 

Okay, that was a scary thought. Suddenly he was consumed by the need to make sure that he _could_ still walk.

 

“Come on,” Rune said. “You’ll feel better. And then you can help your brother warm up a bit too.”

 

That got him moving. He reached up with his good hand and opened the van door. Then began the laborious process of forcing his stiff, frozen, cramped limbs to move. Sitting for hours in a tiny space would be painful at the best of times, and now he thought he was dying.

 

_We are dying_. 

 

Vegard was starting to shiver again with the door open. Bård grit his teeth and with an agonized cry, forced himself out the door to land in an ungraceful heap in the snow. 

 

“Get up!” Rune shouted. “Don’t let it soak through!”

 

He scrambled to his feet as best he could, but quickly collapsed back to his knees with a sob. As if adding insult to injury, he retched and threw up. 

 

“Come on,” Rune said. “You can do it. Get up. Start walking.”

 

Bård sagged against the side of the van with a weak moan. “I can’t, Rune.”

 

“You have to now,” he said. “You’re outside. Come on. You’ll feel better if you walk.”

 

He’d never before understood the phrase _herculean effort_ , but by God he knew it now. Everything hurt, everything was on fire, but somehow he forced himself to stand on shaky, unsteady feet. 

 

The first step, he was sure he would fall, but he kept holding on to the van, and suddenly he was taking a second step, and then a third, and then he was up to the windshield and he couldn’t hold on anymore. Tentatively, he let go, and when he didn’t immediately fall over, shuffled forward. 

 

Slowly, slowly, he made his way around the van, and then again, and a third time. By the time he’d made his fourth trip around, he was almost starting to feel warm again. 

 

It didn’t last, of course. By the time he’d made it almost back to the door, his stomach flipped and he barely had time to bend over before retching. He was shaking all over, completely exhausted, and his knees felt weak. 

 

“Rune, I can’t do anymore,” he said softly, closing his eyes. “I think...I can’t...”

 

“Okay, come back in,” Rune said. The door opened and Bård stumbled back in. He collapsed into the footwell and pulled the blanket over his face. Everything was spinning and his stomach wouldn’t settle down. 

 

“I can’t do that again,” he said.

 

“No, not right now,” Rune said. “Rest for awhile, and maybe you won’t have to.”

 

“Why didn’t anyone come?” Bård asked, for the thousandth time. “Why won’t they come?”

 

Rune didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. They both knew: Mikkel and Jens hadn’t meant it. They’d perished somewhere in the storm, and no one would even know what happened, until they failed to show up at the next interview place.

 

And considering their next interview hadn’t been scheduled until two days later, it would be quite awhile before they were missed. Too long. 

 

They weren’t going to make it out. 

 

“Keep your hopes up,” Rune murmured. “Don’t give up just yet.”

 

_It’s easy to say that,_ Bård thought with what would have been ‘petulance’ if he hadn’t felt so hopeless. He sat up and rested against Vegard’s side. 

 

“Warm?” Vegard asked faintly, opening his eyes.

 

“A little,” Bård lied. The warmth was fading, but he didn’t want Vegard to know. Vegard had enough to worry about.

 

“How’s your arm?”

 

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. He couldn’t feel it anymore. At least it didn’t hurt. Gingerly he pulled back the glove, something he hadn’t yet been able to do. The feeling of glass shards in his wrist was gone, which was something, but he was alarmed to see how pale his hand was compared even to the other - and how his fingernails seemed to be turning blue.

 

_This is bad,_ he thought, trying in vain to flex his fingers. He tried to think back to school first-aid classes, but all he could remember was that blue meant frozen and black was frostbite, and if your fingers turned black…

 

He retched and threw up, and if it wasn’t entirely related to the flu, then no one had to know that. His breathing was too fast and he tried to get it under control

 

_I can’t think about that right now,_ he told himself sternly. _Don’t think about amputa…_

 

Even in his thoughts he couldn’t finish the word.

 

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Vegard said, sensing his brother’s sudden reaction. 

 

Bård wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question, but forced a smile onto his face. It was more like a grimace. 

 

“Of course we are,” he said with confidence he didn’t feel. “Any minute now, we’re going to be rescued. The snow stopped, the sun is shining, they’re going to find us.”

 

But as the day wore on, the sun climbing higher in the sky and sinking again, it became obvious to everyone that their chances of being found were gone.

 

“I can’t get up again,” Bård said, as Rune gently prodded him. “Rune, I really can’t. I can’t...” He struggled to open his eyes. The light was fading, and for a second he wondered if it really was fading, or if he was finally dying.

 

And selfishly, he thought that maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

 

Rune looked around at them, as though sensing his thoughts. “Don’t give up hope,” he said, but it was hollow and empty. Bård had given up hope a long time ago.

 

And that’s when they heard it. 

 

Faintly at first, then louder and louder. Vegard opened his eyes. “That’s a helicopter,” he said. “They’re coming for us! Bård, wave them down!”

 

Faster than he would have thought possible, Bård slammed open the door and jumped out. He could see the helicopter in the sky, a black speck coming closer and closer. Any moment. Was it starting to descend? It had to be. It had to be coming down, coming closer, they had to see him, they had to, they _had to_...

 

The helicopter thundered overhead and disappeared into the distance.

 

Bård sagged against the van. It was gone. Their one hope, their _one chance_ at survival. Nausea overtook him and he retched, nearly falling to his knees. His legs were shaking so hard they would barely hold him, and suddenly he felt a demented laughter bubbling up inside him.

 

“We’re going to die!” he sang. “It left! We don’t have to wonder any more! _We are for sure going to die!”_  

 

It felt like a weight off his shoulders. All those hours of fear and worry and trying desperately to stay alive just another hour. All done! They were going to die. They could rest now.

 

“Fuck this, I’m going to sleep,” he laughed, climbing back in the van. 

 

“What?” Vegard asked groggily. “Are they coming?”

 

“Nope! They flew away! It’s okay, we can die now! They’d probably have cut off my arm anyway, and I’d rather die!”

 

“Bård!” Rune snapped sharply. “Stop that right now!”

 

Rune’s voice was like a slap across the face. All the terrible, delirious euphoria faded and he came back to himself, gasping for breath, trying and failing to form words. All he could come up with was a tiny, quiet, “we’re going to die.” And then he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the confirmation on Rune’s face.

 

But the sound man sighed. “They must not have seen us. You boys stay here. Keep each other warm.”

 

“What?” Bård asked, opening his eyes with difficulty. 

 

“Mikkel and Jens must have made it to town if they sent the search team out. But they don’t know where we are exactly, and they missed us.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’m going to get help. You stay here. Keep each other warm. Do not leave the van. And whatever you do, _do not fall asleep._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

_Bård doesn’t look up from the TV when Vegard walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge door, rummages through it, then closes it with a slam._

 

_“We have no food,” he announces._

 

_“So?”_

 

_“So…I’m hungry. I want dinner.”_

 

_Bård looks up. “We could order pizza!” he says hopefully, but Vegard shakes his head._

 

_“No pizza. We can’t afford it.”_

 

_Bård turns back around. It’s the answer he’d been expecting, but it still hurts. “I thought we’d have the cheque by now,” he complains. “Are you sure there’s been no messages from Ole?”_

 

_“I’m sure,” Vegard says. He begins looking through cabinets. “Okay, Bård, seriously, we have no food. I thought that was the agreement when I let you move in with me - you had to buy the groceries. And pay rent. You’ve done neither.”_

 

_“You let me move in with you? As I recall, this was a mutual decision. And how can I pay rent if I haven’t been paid? For that matter, neither have you! Where are you getting the money from?”_

_“Never you mind.”_

 

_“Oh fuck, you’re not a prostitute are you?”_

 

_His only answer is a can of soup roughly beaned in his direction. Fortunately, it misses his head by a mile and lands harmlessly on the floor in front of the couch._

 

_“Careful!” Bård snaps. “You could have hit me! Or worse, the TV!”_

 

_“If I’d wanted to hit you, I would have,” Vegard says matter-of-factly. “Pick it up and bring it back, would you? I think we have enough to make it up.”_

 

_Bård grumbles, but does as he’s told. Vegard pulls a saucepan from the cabinet under the sink and empties the contents of the can into it. The congealed soup mix slides out with an unappetizing_ schlurp _ing sound. Both brothers look at it with dismay._

 

_“Tomorrow,” Vegard mutters. “Tomorrow, I am calling Ole and finding out why we haven’t gotten paid yet. The show ran for six months longer than it should have, we should be making bank.”_

 

_“Don’t remind me,” Bård mutters darkly._

 

_“The next one will be better,” Vegard promises. “Next time, we’ll do one that’s only the way we want it.”_

 

_“So we keep saying.”_

 

_“Forget that for now, would you? Can you get the milk?”_

 

_Bård nods and opens the fridge. “Uh, Vegard?” he says, swallowing._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“We have no milk.”_

 

_“What? I just saw some in there…”_

 

_“Nope.” Bård picks up the empty jug to show him._

 

_“Fuck! What happened to it? I just bought that!”_

 

_“Don’t look at me!” Bård insists. “I didn’t drink it!”_

 

_“Well what are we supposed to do now?” Vegard asks helplessly. “We need milk to make the soup, and we have no fucking milk!”_

 

“Bård…”

 

_“Relax,” Bård says. “We can use water. Or see if there’s anything in the change jar. Maybe we can get one of those little cartons.”_

 

“Bård…”

  
_Vegard empties out the jar, counting the coins with his finger. He shakes his head grimly. “Not enough. Water it is.”_

 

_Bård sighs. This is going to taste horrible, but he’s hungry enough to eat just about anything._

 

“Bård! You’re falling asleep!”

 

“There’s no more milk,” he whispered. “We have to use water in the soup.”

 

“What?”

 

He opened his eyes. The little apartment was gone. Vegard wasn’t cooking canned soup. He was lying on the bench seat of a wrecked van, and Bård was lying on top of him. Rune had been gone for…he didn’t know how long it had been. Lying down together had been Vegard’s idea. Or maybe it was his. He couldn’t remember anymore.

 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Milk. Do you remember when we used to live together?”

 

“How could I forget?”

 

“You drank all the milk.”

 

“You left wet towels on the bathroom floor.”

 

“You used up all the hot water.”

 

“You didn’t pay rent!”

 

_“How did you pay rent?” Bård asks around a mouthful of pizza. It’s the first good meal he’s had in weeks and he intends to savour it._

 

_“What?” Vegard looks up from his own takeout container. A heavy curry smell wafts out from it. “And don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s disgusting.”_

 

_“Last month, before we got our cheque from Ole,” Bård says. He swallows and sticks out his tongue when Vegard isn’t looking._

 

_“Oh…uh. I found some money,” he says, stuffing some rice into his mouth._

_“Where?”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

_“Under a rock?”_

 

_“Maybe.”_

 

_“Vegard, seriously, where did you get the money?”_

 

_“I sold some things, okay? I knew we’d be getting the cheque soon, I just needed some cash until then.”_

 

_“What did you sell?”_

 

_“It doesn’t matter. Stuff.”_

 

_“Tell me!”_

 

_“Just some DVDs! And the Playstation that we never use anymore.”_

 

_“You couldn’t have gotten enough from that.”_

 

_Vegard won’t look at him. He just puts another forkful of rice in his mouth and chews it slowly._

 

_“You sold the Telecaster didn’t you,” Bård says with growing horror. Vegard doesn’t answer. “You did! You sold it! Vegard, why?!”_

 

_“Because we had to eat,” he says simply, and Bård feels a wave of guilt and shame wash over him._

 

_“You’re going to get it back,” he vows. “I’ll get it back for you. Or a new one.”_

 

_“Of course I will,” Vegard says calmingly. “It was just for a few days. I’ll need it for our stage show, remember?”_

 

_But when he goes back to the pawn shop a few days later, the red Telecaster is gone_

 

“Your guitar,” Bård said. The words feel thick and heavy in his mouth. “You sold it.”

 

“A long time ago,” Vegard answered. His voice sounded distant. 

 

“We had to eat.”

 

“Yeah, we did.” 

“Did you ever get it back?” Bård asked. He felt like he should know, should remember, but everything was foggy.

  
“Yeah. Don’t you remember?”

 

“No.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He couldn’t manage anything else. He had a vague sense that he’d _disappointed_ Vegard somehow, by not remembering, but he couldn’t figure it out.

 

“You got it back for me,” Vegard said softly. “I don’t know how, or when, but I came home one day and you’d moved out and the guitar was on my bed.”

 

Bård remembered _that_. “I paid you back,” he said. “I paid you all the rent I’d owed you.”

 

“I know you did.”

 

“We were being paid by Ole. We didn’t need to live together anymore.”

 

“No, we didn’t.”

 

“It was better if I left.” 

 

“You had to do what you thought was right.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.”

 

Bård fell silent. He didn’t have the energy to keep up the conversation. He was feeling dizzy again and his eyes were heavy.

 

_Flashes of memories. Their first stage show. It should be happy, but it isn’t. The material is corny and they’re embarrassed all the time. Ole isn’t happy with them, but they can’t afford to leave. The second show, no better than the first. The audiences are happy, but the brothers aren’t. The split with Ole. It was Vegard’s idea, of course, he’s the one who masterminded it, because he’s the smart one, he’s the one who always knows what to do. Without him, Bård would be lost._

 

“Bård, open your eyes.” Vegard tapped his cheek, and Bård tried to turn his head to get away from it.

 

“Do you remember our first show after Ole?” he asked.

 

“Wasn’t it the radio show?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Of course I remember.”

 

“I really liked doing that.”

 

“I did too.”

 

“I guess we’re never going to get to do our stage show. The one where it was supposed to be all us.”

 

Vegard’s breath hitched. “Don’t talk that way. Of course we will. I’ve been having some really good ideas lately. Like, like, what if we were babies? That rapped? In English?”

 

Bård tried to laugh. “Maybe it’s a good thing we’ll never do the show. That sounds terrible.”

 

“Oh…”

 

Bård swallowed. “I’m sorry, Vegard.”

 

“For what?”

 

“I’m always…I’m always such a shit to you. And you’re always nice to me. I could say anything to you and you never fought back. You _never fought back_.”

 

“I know.”

 

“It made me want to say worse things to you,” Bård admitted in a barely audible whisper. “I don’t know why. I just wanted you to react. Just once.”

 

“Well if I’d known that…”

 

“I’m sorry.” He blinked hard, Vegard’s words from earlier coming back. _Don’t cry. Your tears will freeze._ Vegard taking care of him. Again. “You do everything for me. I never do anything for you.”

 

“That’s not true,” Vegard said softly. He raised one hand with difficulty, and placed it on Bård’s back, trying not to jostle his arm. “You know that’s not true.”

 

“No…”

 

“Then you can make it up to me. When we get out of here.”

 

They fell silent.

 

“We’re not getting out of here, are we?” Bård asked quietly.

 

“No,” Vegard admitted. 

 

“Do you think Mom and Dad will miss us?”

 

“Of course they will. What kind of question is that?”

 

_They’ll miss you,_ Bård thought, but didn’t voice it. Out loud he said, _“_ Do you think Bjarte will be scarred for life?”

 

“No. Well, yeah. Maybe. Kids are resilient.”

 

Bård was silent. He didn’t have the energy to respond. He was so cold, and so tired, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Everything seemed to move slowly, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t move anything. Even his desperate shivering had stopped. Everything was falling away and he felt an odd sort of peace envelope him. Very soon, it wouldn’t matter how bad he felt. Very soon, he wouldn’t feel any pain at all.

 

“I’m glad we’re together,” he said at last, or maybe he just thought it. He couldn’t be sure anymore. “If it has to end like this…I’m glad we’re together.”

 

“So am I.” Vegard’s voice was faint. “I couldn’t go on without you, Bård.”

 

“I’m going to die first, you know,” he whispered.

 

“I know. It's okay. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“I’m scared, Vegard.”

 

“Don’t be scared. It’ll be over soon.”

 

Bård raised his head. “Do you think it will hurt?”

 

“No. Not at all. It’ll be like falling asleep.”

 

_How do you know?_ Bård wanted to ask, but he didn’t have the energy, and besides, he didn’t need to. Vegard knew everything about everything. Of course he would know that dying doesn’t hurt.

 

And suddenly, he was so tired he couldn’t stay awake any longer. Numbness was creeping up over him, soothing the pain.

 

“It’s coming, Vegard,” he said. But Vegard wasn’t listening.

 

“Bård, I hear something,” he said. “Stay here, stay with me. I hear something.”

 

“I can’t,” he slurred. 

 

“Bård, look! There’s a light! Do you see it? There’s a light! It’s coming closer!”

 

_So it’s true what they say,_ Bård thought distantly. _There really is a light at the end of the tunnel._

 

“Stay awake, please, stay awake a little longer,” Vegard pleaded.

 

_Can’t,_ Bård thought. _Too tired._

 

“Please, Bård…”

 

The light grew closer and enveloped them. Bård laid his head down on Vegard’s chest and closed his eyes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh boy. I'll have the last chapter up VERY soon I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN SORRY I MEANT TO FINISH IT BUT THEN I GOT AN IDEA FOR THE EPILOGUE SORRYYYY
> 
> Also, this chapter I'm a little nervous about. Please remember that this entire fic did originally stem from a dream.

Hands. Warm hands all over him, leaving burning trails on his body.

 

He turned away from the light shining in his eyes, too bright, too strong.

 

“ _It’s all right, we’re here to help. Can you open your eyes for me? Can you move?”_

 

Bård fought against the heaviness in his eyelids. He squinted into the light, but couldn’t see anything more than dark shapes illuminated from behind.

 

_I’m dead,_ he thought. _I’ve died and this is heaven…or hell. Where’s Vegard? He said he’d be right behind me!_

 

“Vegard,” he murmured, but his body wouldn’t co-operate. He raised his eyes and could see his brother’s hand still on his shoulder, deathly white. That calmed him somewhat. Vegard was still nearby. That was all he needed to know. 

 

_“Yes, yes, we’ve got them…yes, it’s the Ylvis boys, both of them…they’re in bad shape. Standby with warmed blankets and fluids for both.”_

 

Someone or something was pulling on him, trying to drag him away from his brother. Bård gripped Vegard’s jacket hard with his good hand and refused to let go.

 

“ _It’s okay, honey, we’re going to get to your brother. We have to get you out first. I need you to let go and help me, okay? Just let go.”_

 

“Let go, Bård.” Vegard’s voice was faint but Bård heard it rumble in his chest. “Let them help you.”

 

“I’m not going without you.”

 

“It’s okay. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

Something _clicked_ in his mind then, and his grip on Vegard’s coat relaxed. At once, the hands on him began to pull him backward, and again he fought weakly until he heard Vegard’s voice again, telling him to relax.

 

The next thing he knew, he was pulled free from the van and being wrapped in something soft and gloriously _warm._ He moaned in ecstasy at the sensation, but it quickly turned into a cry as the woman jostled his arm and a sharp bolt of agony shot through him.

 

“All right, looks like his arm is fractured. I don’t see any bone poking through, let’s get a splint on it and they can deal with it later.” 

 

Nothing mattered but the warmth slowly spreading up his body as the pain in his arm faded to a dull throb. Vaguely he was aware of moving but couldn’t make sense of anything else until they approached a large, black mass.

 

_A helicopter_ , he realized, wondering distantly if it was the same one from before. It had to be, he decided. Rune must have found them and told them.

 

“Rune?” he asked, fighting against the lethargy and the urge to simply close his eyes and bask in the warmth. 

 

“It’s okay, honey, don’t try to talk,” the woman said. He squinted up at her and now that they were out of the blinding light he could recognize the paramedic uniform. “Just rest. We’ll be taking off as soon as we get your brother loaded in.”

 

“Vegard?” He tried to look around, but being secured tightly to the stretcher meant he had limited range of vision, and he couldn’t see his brother anywhere. “Vegard?!” Consumed by sudden panic, he tried to force himself into a sitting position. Doing so caused his arm to twist and the blanket to fall down his chest and he fell back with a cry.

 

“Whoa! Take it easy, lie still!” There was a comforting hand on his forehead, and another pulling the blankets back up and tucking them under his chin. 

 

“I need to…is he…”

 

“Your brother is doing just fine,” the woman said soothingly. “That was a good idea for you to lay together like that. You probably saved his life.”

 

“He does everything for me,” Bård mumbled, his eyes closing. God, he was so tired…

 

The next thing he knew was a loud _SLAM_ as the helicopter door was closed, and the vibration in the body as the rotors started up. He turned his head. Vegard was lying next to him, eyes closed, an oxygen mask over his face.

 

Then they were taking off, and a mask was pressed over his own face. He tried to fight it, but both his hands were strapped down by his sides. Panic welled up in him but he had no energy left to try to get away.

 

“It’s all right…” he heard the woman’s voice again, but distant, as though she were far away. “We’re taking off now. We’re going to be at the hospital soon. Just try to relax. Don’t fight it.”

 

He couldn’t have fought it if he tried. He didn’t know if he’d been dosed with something or if it was the relief of the situation being _finally_ over, but he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

 

_I’m flying in a helicopter_ , he thought as he felt the bump that indicated they’d left the ground. _I must remember to tell Bjarte about this…_

 

~~~

 

The next thing Bård was aware of was a light shining against his closed eyelids. He was sleepy and comfortable and so wonderfully _warm_ so he saw no reason to wake up just yet.

 

“Mom, I think he’s waking up!”

 

He frowned. That sounded like Bjarte, but what was Bjarte doing in his bedroom? And what was that beeping sound? And why did his nose itch?

 

“Mom, why isn’t he waking up?”

 

_Because I don’t want to, you little brat._

 

“He’s still very tired and sick. He might not be able to just yet.”

 

_Like hell I’m not able to!_

 

Spurred on by sheer indignance, Bård struggled to open his eyes.

 

The first thing he realized was that he was not in his bedroom. He wasn’t even in his _house_. The pale green walls told him that it could only be one place: a hospital room. That was further confirmed when he raised his hand and saw the IV line in his arm, and discovered that his nose was itching because there was a thin tube delivering oxygen in it.

 

“Hey bro,” came a soft voice to his right, the voice he needed to hear more than anything in the world. He turned his head. Vegard was lying in the other bed in the room. 

 

“You’re alive,” Bård said, his voice low and hoarse. His throat was sore, like he’d been screaming for hours.

 

“I’m alive, what about _you?_ Don’t you know you’re supposed to get better once you’re rescued? You got _worse!_ ”

 

Bård frowned. “I did?”

 

“40 degree fever, bro. Had us all worried for awhile. You've been asleep for almost 20 hours.”

 

“Oh…sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He shifted a little and was pleased when he could do it without pain. His right arm was in a cast from elbow to fingers and propped up on a pillow by his side. 

 

“How’s your arm?” his mother asked. “Does it hurt?”

 

“No,” he sighed blissfully. “Not at all.”

 

“That’s good. The doctor says it will be fine, in time. You’ll have to do some pretty serious physiotherapy, but there shouldn’t be any nerve damage or loss of function.”

 

“Good,” he sighed again. “I thought…I thought they may have to…cut it off,” he finished with a swallow.

 

“Yes, we know,” his mother answered, a slight smile in her voice. “You made your fears quite known when they brought you into the ER.”

 

“I’ve never heard anyone scream like that,” Bjarte added. 

 

“I…what?” Bård asked, confused.

 

“You were very feverish,” his mother said gently. “And that made you very…combative.”

 

“You punched a doctor and threw up on his shoes!” Bjarte said, awe in his voice. “It was awesome.”

 

“Bjarte!” Their mother scolded. “Why don’t you go wait outside.”

 

“But — “

 

“Go.”

 

“Okay.” He turned to leave. “I’m glad you’re okay though," he said to his brothers. "And you got to ride in a helicopter. That must have been pretty sweet.” 

 

“Out!”

 

But Bård wasn’t listening. “The helicopter…Mom, what happened to Mikkel and Jens? Are they okay? They must be okay, right?”

 

“Yes, yes, they’re fine, relax. They were picked up by a snowplow and taken back to Brandbu, and they alerted the authorities. They’re not hurt, but they are very worried about you.”

 

“Okay.” The panic ebbed away and he sank back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Then he frowned as memories washed over him again. “Wait. The helicopter left. It missed us the first time.” He thought again, then gasped. “Mom — Rune! Is he okay?”

 

Vegard coughed slightly, and their mother got a sad expression on her face. “Darling…Rune died. I’m sorry.”

 

Bård felt like he couldn’t breath. “What? No! He can’t have died, that’s not fair! He saved us! He saved our lives! He told us how to keep warm, and then the helicopter left, and he left us to go into town himself! He can’t be dead!”

 

Their mother looked worried. “He what?”

 

“He saved us!”

 

She sighed. “No, honey. That’s not possible. Rune was thrown from the car when it slid down the hill. He was killed instantly.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and enjoyed this story! I honestly thought it was going to be really bad and really short, but here we are at over 10 000 words, making it my longest Ylvis fic to date. (Insert Bård's oyoyoyoy/Vegard's iayayaya sound here) 
> 
> (EDIT: Just wanted to make it clear that the switch to present-tense in this chapter is deliberate!)
> 
> The good news is that I have a bunch of stuff coming, including some Veggie-angst and more of the "Always" series.
> 
> So, thanks again and here we go, one last time.

They don’t talk about it. Vegard is released from the hospital the next day, and Bård two days later, just in time to attend Rune’s memorial service. Vegard has an ugly scar on his leg and limps for a little while, and Bård has months of physiotherapy on his arm, but they heal.

 

So what if Bård never sleeps with fewer than four blankets anymore (and so what if he doesn’t sleep through the night for the first year after the accident). And who cares if Vegard doubles, then triples his heating bill in the winters. Slowly, it begins to seem as if they’d always been doing that. The memories fade and become less sharp, and some days they don’t think of it at all.

 

In time, they heal.

 

~~~ 4 years later ~~~

 

There are three bowls on the table in front of him, full to the brim with ice water. 

 

This is going to hurt.

 

The experiment was Vegard’s idea of course, the nerd that he is. Bård wasn’t too sure, but they’d been a little desperate for sketches and when in doubt, pain was a sure winner. Vegard had been most pleased with himself that his idea had gone over well.

 

But Bård can’t help but notice that now he doesn’t look too sure. He swallows down the apprehension in his own throat and waits for the director to signal the start.

 

“Ready for the experiment?” Vegard asks, his voice overly cheerful. “Calle, you can swear in the normal, customary way. Bård, you can act like you’re swearing, but you can only say nice, wonderful, summery words, like ladybug and sunflower…”

 

“Can I say ‘fucking sunflower’?” Bård quips.

 

“No. And I’m just going to be quiet and see how that goes. Ready?”

 

The band strikes up a cheerful tune as all three plunge their hands into the ice water.

 

“Sunflower,” Bård whispers, as his hands begin to seize up. “Ohh, sunflower…”

 

_It’s freezing cold and he can’t feel his hands anymore. The gloves don’t help and his coat is soaked. Rune is gone, and the helicopter is gone too. If he opens his eyes he’ll see Vegard, lying on the bench seat, his face dead white, framed by black curls gone crunchy with ice. His lips are blue, and he’s barely breathing._

 

_He knows his lips are moving but he doesn’t know what he’s saying; all he knows is the cold in his hands and creeping up his body, numb and blank, and he knows he’s going to die soon._

 

_Vegard cries out in pain and Bård wants to go to him but he can’t; something’s holding him in place and distantly he almost thinks he knows what it is, but it won’t come forward and all he can think about is the pain and cold, and the black sparkles creeping into the edge of his vision._

 

_He tries to call his brother’s name but the words won’t come. He feels like he’s screaming but everything is silent, and he’s desperate to get to him but it’s too late, he knows he’s too late, Vegard is gone, and in a minute he’s going to die too_

 

_Or worse, he won’t die, he’ll just keep living on like this, all alone in the cold and dark, with no one, Vegard is gone…_

 

A scream of pain to his right snaps him back to reality, and suddenly Vegard’s arms are around him, pulling his hands out of the ice water. Bård drops to the floor, a scream wrenching itself from his throat. There’s water on his face and he thinks it must have splashed up when he raised his hands but it’s warm, it’s _tears_. 

 

He looks up. Calle is looking down at him with a look of shock. He signals the director. “I think we’re going to need a minute.”

 

“Where’s Vegard?” Bård asks as Calle helps him to his feet. His arm is throbbing and he’s still not sure he’s not going to pass out. 

 

“He went backstage,” Calle says. “Why don’t you go get a drink of water and compose yourself. I’ll take care of the audience.”

 

He’s never heard Calle’s voice this soft, so he nods and brushes past the curtain, intending on heading for the kitchens. But once the heavy velvet curtain closes he’s left alone in the dark, and he can hear his heartbeats thudding dully in his ears.

 

_Vegard is gone and he’s alone, alone, alone…_

 

“Bård…” he barely has time to register his name being spoken in a ragged whisper, and then he’s enveloped in a tight hug. He clings to Vegard, just as hard, and for a minute that’s all they can do.

 

“I…” Bård starts, then pauses. They’ve never talked about it, how do they start now. “I saw the van again.”

 

Vegard hesitates. Then, “I did too. God, I feel so stupid…” He runs a hand through his hair. He’s trying to smile, but his breathing is still shaky. 

 

Bård rubs at his arm. It’s still aching. He leans forward and rests his forehead against Vegard’s shoulder. The gabardine suit jacket is dry and warm and slightly rough against his cheek and he’s glad, because if he closes his eyes he can still see it, Vegard’s tweed-coloured winter coat that he wore everywhere

 

(though strangely, after the rescue, Bård never saw it again)

 

cold and shapeless against his numb cheek. Without thinking he grabs Vegard’s hand, needing to feel the warmth, the reminder that everything is okay, they were saved, his brother is alive. But Vegard’s hand is still cold from the ice water, and he drops it with a gasp. Vegard pulls his hand back at the same time.

 

“Your hand is cold,” he says. “Don’t…here. Do this instead.” He raises his hands and presses them against Bård’s cheeks. Bård does the same. He knows they must look ridiculous, and if anyone saw them they’d both die of mortification, but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is the warmth. Bård closes his eyes, suddenly tired more than anything, but Vegard sucks in his breath.

  
“Can you…can you just…keep your eyes open for me?” he asks in a small voice. “Please?”

 

Bård nods wordlessly and opens them. Vegard looks off to the side, but even in the dim light Bård can see the shine of tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” Vegard breathes, his voice choked. “It’s just…I used to have these _nightmares_ , about…and it was always _that_ …”

  
“It’s okay,” Bård whispers. “I used to get them too. Sometimes I still do.”

 

For a few minutes they just stand there, desperately trying to think about anything else than those desperate hours, the memories they’d thought they’d long since suppressed. Bård dutifully keeps his eyes open, but thoughts and images tumble around in his mind, trying to get out if only he could find the words, and his throat closes up because he knows that if he doesn’t find those words now, he’ll never get an opportunity again.

 

Finally Vegard clears his throat. “We should…we should get back. Calle can only distract the audience for so long before he rips his pants.”

 

That actually manages to make Bård smile. “Yeah, we should.” And then, because he knows this is it, he’ll never get another chance to voice the thing that’s haunted him ever since. “Vegard? Can I ask you something? About…that night. Nights.”

 

Vegard sighs and wets his lips. “Sure.”

 

“Rune. It wasn’t just me, was it? You saw him too, right?” It isn’t so much a question as a plea. 

 

Vegard sighs again. “Bård, I was so out of it, I didn’t know who was there or what was going on. All I remember was you. You saved my life.”

 

“Please, Vegard.” _Please tell me I’m not going insane._

 

Vegard looks away, then swallows. “I believe you when you say he was there.”

 

“You saw him too.”

 

“It doesn’t make any sense…”

 

“You saw him.”

 

“Yeah. I did.” 

 

They fall silent again, because there’s nothing else to say. If this ever gets out they’ll be branded insane, a laughing stock, possibly even lose their careers. But it’s enough for Bård, enough to know that Vegard saw Rune too, that’s he’s not going crazy.

 

Finally, Vegard removes his hands from Bård’s cheeks and rubs them together, looking down at his fingers with a smile. 

 

“My hands are warm,” he says, as though it was the first time in a long time he’d felt it. 

 

“So are mine,” Bård agrees. The ache in his arm is fading.

 

Vegard smiles. “Come on then. Our adoring public awaits. We should go, there’s no telling what Calle is up to now.”

 

Bård nods. “All right, then. Should we say anything? Or just pretend it never happened?”

 

Vegard makes a face. “Definitely in favour of pretending it never happened…” then his voice softens, “but maybe it’s better to acknowledge it,” and Bård knows he’s not just talking about the experiment.

 

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

 

Vegard makes a grand sweeping gesture toward the curtain. “Off you go.”

 

“Aren’t you coming?”

 

“Of course. I’ll be right behind you.” 

 

Bård smiles, for real this time. He feels lighter than he has in years, ever since the accident; like a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying has been lifted off his shoulders. 

 

“I know,” he says. “You always are.”

 

THE END.

 


End file.
